Leggie Blonde

Yesterday, I woke up early so that inspiration would come to me. Yesterday, I woke up early and had coffee with Dad so that inspiration would come to me. Yesterday, I waited for inspiration to come to me and while I waited, Dad said to me, "I think I've decided on cremation," and I said, "What?" and Dad said, "When I die, I'd like to be cremated." It was hard to wait for inspiration to come to me after Dad told me this, but still I waited.

In the afternoon, Dad mowed the grass, and the noise from the mower made concentrating "hard" to "do" and I drove to the nearest coffee shop and ordered a latte. The caffeine made me dizzy. All I could think about was cremation. And Stella. Cremation and Stella. Cremation and Stella. Inspiration would not come to me there. So, I left the coffee shop and drove to Lake Erie and rolled around in the sand with all my clothes on and thought about Stella. Some teenagers laughed at me, but I didn't care, because I would have laughed at myself too if I were with them. I didn't want to go back home, but I did. I took a bath. Afterwards, Dad told me to clean the sand from the bathtub and I did. I thought of cremation then and inspiration did not come to me. We sat in front of the TV. Dad told me he ran over a cat. I told him that I stole a fork from my old workplace. "Figures," he said.

Then this played on TV:



and I felt inspired. Then Dad turned the channel.